5 Times Rick Surprised Craig and Once He Didn't
by suckersoprano
Summary: A couple of short ficlets I wrote for a bit of a kink war. Factventure humanized, NSFW
1. The Party

The noisy crowd, the decadent drinking, the unwelcome touching, unfamiliar crowd; Craig had quite a few reasons why he disliked parties immensely. Everyone at _this_ party was drinking and laughing when he just… wanted to be anywhere but here. He had come with _Rick_, who was currently missing while Craig awkwardly stood as far away from a drunken crowd as he could with a simple glass of wine in his hand and a magnificent scowl as he faced the owner of the house's bookshelf. He was judging their taste in literature very, very hard; really now, that copy of _Dante's Inferno_ didn't even look like it had its spine cracked _once,_ not even to mention that it was missing the _rest_ of the Divine Comedy. While he was glaring at row after row of unread books, a pair of arms very slowly wrapped around his waist and the sound of metal clinking draped over his head until a pair of dog tags rested on his collarbone.

_Rick_; Craig realized, gripping the man's forearm before his hands wandered a bit _too_ low, "Havin' fun, Peaches?" he slurred, voice muffled slightly by the way he was nuzzling into Craig's hair.

"_No_," he said sharply, trying to forcibly pull the man's bigger hands away from his beltline, but it was no use, they slipped just under the seam of his trousers, "You are _drunk_, you… you _jerk_."

Rick lifted his head slightly, blinking, "Jerk? Why'm I a jerk?"

"You left me in a party where I know no one and… and…," he was getting worked up, Craig felt himself being pulled backward into Rick's chest and his raw nerves wanted nothing but to sink right into his steady balance, so he did.

Craig's wineglass was carefully pulled from his hands and set atop the bookshelf, high. The dogtags in front of his neck jangled slightly and he winced at the unwelcome noise, but letting a slightly swaying Rick cradle him right there was outweighing any new stress. The big oaf was humming something tuneless, it was an odd juxtaposition to the din from the laughing crowd in the adjacent room, but it was oddly relaxing.

"Y'wanna know somethin'?"

"What?" Craig huffed, still surly.

"'m sorry I left ya here, some douche dragged me someplace 'n I got caught up talkin' 'bout ya."

Craig scoffed, disbelieving, but Rick continued, "One'a th'guys kept callin' ya a stuck-up asshole, 'n I had'ta go'n tell'im how wrong th'bastard was."

The blonde flushed just slightly, flustered enough by the fact Rick had stuck up for him not to notice Rick's thumbs tracing along his belt. The bigger man hummed again, something that sounded like he was thinking.

"Y'know, I left ya here all by yer lonesome," he said conversationally, fingertips tracing the buckle, "I should try'n make it up to ya."

There was literally a second between the offer and Craig's belt suddenly hanging loosely from his belt loops. Craig gripped the man's bigger wrists and _pulled, _frantically, all while the other man was pressing lazy kisses behind the shell of his ear. The gasp Craig made was nearly deafening in the small room and by the time Craig realized the fastenings of his trousers were undone, his length was already being massaged through his boxers.

"_RICK_," he hissed, voice hitching just slightly, "_We are at a PARTY_, _they will HEAR!"_

"Better be quiet then, sweetheart."

He wasn't sure if that strained half of a whimper was something the blonde imagined coming from his mouth or not. Craig could feel the tipsy man's rumbling laugh right in his lungs, or perhaps that was the lightheaded, shortness of breath he was getting while his cock was quickly brought to full hardness without much effort from his shameless boyfriend. The back of his head hit Rick's collarbone with a metallic scraping from the dogtags hanging around both of their necks. Even if Craig had wanted to escape somehow, Rick had planned to make it difficult with those damned tags so close to his throat.

There was a small bit of awkward fumbling so Rick could get his hand around Craig's length, murmuring something that Craig couldn't quite hear over the anxious pounding of his heart and the distinctly _louder_ talk from the crowd in the next room. A thumb started to rub the head of his cock, making a definite full whine spill from between Craig's lips. He'd given up any attempt to pull Rick off of him, taking to holding on to the bookshelf in front of him for dear life.

"_Rick, please_," Craig breathed, voice just a hair away from sounding like a desperate keen, "_W-we're in p-public… oh!"_

Just as soon as the quick, surprisingly deft stroking began, Craig shut right up with his back arching into his partner, glasses slipping down his nose with the sheen of sweat gathering on his face. His mouth was drawn into an exaggerated shape, his eyebrows drawn together tightly; if Rick kept this up, he was going to come in their friend's apartment without any means to clean himself up. Teeth on his earlobe, biting and yanking almost had Craig thinking he was done for, but Rick unexpectedly began to re-fasten his slacks with a kiss to his bitten ear.

"Think 'm drunk 'nough that y'gotta take me home," he said in a low tone, drawing out a frustrated, shuddering sigh, "So y'gotta drive th'truck… 'n I don't. If y'know what I mean."

The dog tag chain was lifted from around Craig's neck and the keys were shaken with a loud noise in Rick's pocket. He wondered why Rick was forcing him to drive, but there wasn't much time to speculate. There was already attention called to them by the noise of the keys. Embarrassed as hell and still painfully hard, he righted his clothing and couldn't even force up a scowl to shoot back at Rick's lazy smile.

"Think we kin finish in th'car. Hurry," he murmured, making the flush on Craig's face darken. He was too riled up to argue; he had better be in for one _damn_ good blowjob…


	2. Too Late

Rick watched one very stressed, very _late_ Craig rushing around the room, pulling on assorted bits of clothing and attempting to comb his hair at the same time. It started to get amusing when Craig threw his arms into his shirt before even bothering to find his boxers on the floor, which were no longer there, but in the safe care of Rick, underneath of his pillow. The pink eyed man was driven so desperate that he was tying his tie around his neck before he'd bothered to button his shirt. So there Craig was, racing around the room with his glasses skewed and his shirt half on, naked from the waist down with a _green_ tie around his neck, Rick noted with a quiet chuckle to himself. It wasn't even _Craig's_ tie.

It was pretty obvious what Craig needed right now and Rick was only too happy to give it to him. After watching this mess unfold, he finally pulled himself out of bed, foregoing even getting dressed completely. He snatched up Craig by the tie just as he was going racing _back_ to the bathroom for the fifth time in ten minutes and tugged him against his chest. The blonde's worried pink eyes finally looked at Rick's green ones, expression drawn into distressed lines. Nope, not going to have any of that; Rick hooked his elbow around the other man's waist and swung him around to toss him right back on the bed with a bounce.

"No, I don't have _time_ for, oh, w-what… are you doing…?" he sputtered.

In one big hand, Rick held a bottle of a familiar something, tossing and catching it with an evil grin on his face. It looked almost _hungry_; Craig scrambled to the back of the bed, his shoulders hitting the headboard with a thump. Frozen to the spot, he could only watch while Rick climbed over the bed and grabbed ahold of the smaller man's ankles, forcefully _yanking_ him back toward him. He easily slid across the sheets and beneath a wall of unmovable muscle topped with a curling grin that held all kinds of dark plans that had Craig forgetting how to breathe.

"Jus' gonna make ya _relax_," Rick assured him, but Craig was not comforted in the least.

The dark, seductive tones he used didn't bode well for the blonde, but there was no way he was getting away now, with a heavy hand pressing down on his abdomen and promises of very, very pleasant things to come, just by the way Rick's mouth curled. Rick gave him one last little smirk before pulling the smaller man's glasses, setting them aside for now. The blonde could only watch while Rick closed the arms and carefully set them on the bedside table. Now down to business; Rick kept his eyes on his prize while he prepared. The moment the bottle was popped open and the bigger man's fingers coated, Craig remembered that there was a _reason_ he was rushing around.

"No, Rick, I'm _late_, I don't have time for—hhh_god_, _not there, oh god oh god!_" Craig sucked in a breath mid-sentence when slick fingers were drawn across his entrance and circled.

As though he weren't already half-hard from the devious look in Rick's eye, Craig's cock jumped right to attention, despite the rather _long_ night they'd had before. An evil little chuckle made Craig's eyes slide shut when the fingers were pressed inside of him easily. It was clear the Rick knew his body all too well, the pads of his fingers had already reached that spot inside of him that made immediately thrust upward with a pathetic sounding mewl. That spot was massaged, rubbed, and abused without mercy; Rick rubbed circles, slow and fast in a pattern that Craig couldn't follow anymore. A low whine emitted from his throat, making up for forgetting how to _breathe._

"Not now, Rick _please_!" he tried to say, but it only came out as an unintelligible moan.

"C'mon, come fer me, darlin'," Rick firmly commanded, unrelenting on the squirming man beneath him.

"_Nnghh… but!_" Craig tried to fight it, squeezing his eyes shut while he lost control of his body.

His hands gripped both of Rick's wrists, completely torn on whether to urge him on desperately or just as frantically try to pull him off. The circles suddenly switched to outright _thrusting_ of two fingers, Craig only hazily realized this because of the _incredible _feeling of being stretched. Rick only needed to pump Craig's length twice before he was coming with a broken moan in a streak across his stomach. The blonde immediately loosened his grip and covered his flushed, ashamed face.

Mission accomplished, it seemed. Rick moved onto the bed next to his red-faced mission objective and pulled him closer with his arms around his waist. He buried his face into Craig's shoulder, not paying much attention to the annoyed noises he was making; the panting to try to catch his breath was far more interesting.

"H-_HOW_ am I going to explain why I'm _LATE?_" he mumbled, horrified.

"Dunno. Maybe tell'em yer boyfriend thought y'could use a break 'n sleep in," Rick's eyes were already closed, he shrugged nonchalantly.

"I CAN'T sleep in, I have a—"

"Babe, it's Saturday. Issit time t'sleep in yet?" Rick peeked one eye open to see Craig's wide-eyed expression of shock, "S'right, now go back t'sleep. Y'owe me one when y'wake up."


	3. Spectacle

Whatever in the world had prompted Rick to try to snatch Craig's glasses from his face, Craig was certainly unaware, but he didn't even need to look up from his book in the lunchroom to deftly smack his hand away. It was difficult to keep himself from smiling smugly at the shocked expression he could spot on the bigger man's face from his peripheral vision. People wanting to wear his glasses had been a common occurrence since he began wearing them as a child; deflecting people from stealing them had become necessity after the first broken pair at someone else's hands.

"Woah, Pinky, what th'hell," Rick finally chuckled, seemingly over the surprise, "Jus' wanna see'em, 'm not gonna hurt'em."

"My trust in that statement is nonexistent; no," he said without looking up from his book.

"Aw, c'mon," Rick didn't seem to get the message; he tried for them again, only to have his hand expertly batted away yet again.

Craig couldn't help but smirk now; Rick muttered an amazed swear under his breath. Each attempt, no matter how fast and forceful did no good. It didn't stop the extraordinarily stubborn Rick from trying at least three more times. Craig finally set his book in his lap and turned the page, seemingly unbothered aside from the smug grin that was now firmly set on his face.

The green-eyed man stared at him with his eyes narrowed for a long time, making one last ditch effort. He succeeded in snatching Craig's wrist, but his other hand was right there, slapping away Rick's hands with a sharp smack, getting his antagonist to snatch away his hands in surprise.

"Now, _if you please_," Craig huffed, still smirking, "My _lunch_ is almost over."

Rick scowled, but had a glint of challenge accepted, "Yeah, yeah. 'm getting'em one way'r another, four-eyes, you'll see."

Of course, it was pretty hard to believe him. Craig went about his day unconcerned; he'd managed to keep _everyone_ from touching his glasses since he was twelve, Rick wasn't about to break _that_ record. Not even the half-assed attempt to surprise a somewhat distracted Craig at his desk later helped him much. A glare over the top of the gold-rimmed goal got Rick to almost pout and retreat. As if such a thing were _actually_ so important, Craig scoffed, the other man was just a persistent lout; Craig rolled his eyes and went about his business.

Near the end of the day, when people were starting to finish up their work and head home, Craig stood at the copy machine, making copies of the handout he'd put together for their next staff meeting. His hands rested on the top of the machine while the copies spat out the side, his nails drummed impatiently on the plastic. Someone walked into the copy room behind him, but he didn't bother to look up until big arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him against someone bigger than he.

"Gotcha," a deep voice purred into the back of his neck.

Craig immediately stiffened, grabbing the offending wrists in surprise, "_Rick!_ What do you _think_ you are _doing?"_ he cried.

Rick said nothing, chuckling darkly. Craig tried to pull his hands away from his waist, but it made little difference to the much stronger man behind him. One arm wrapped around his chest, pulling him against the unmoving wall of muscle behind him and the other splayed across his stomach, slowly, lazily drifting downward. The bespectacled man huffed in effort, trying to yank Rick's large hands from feeling him up, but even if he were strong enough to stop it, he could feel rough stubble and warm breath across his neck…

"This is _ridiculous_, let me—_hahn..!_" Craig gasped heavily at the feel of a palm across the front of his trousers, pressing and kneading very, very lightly.

Just like that, Craig was released and it took him a long moment to realize what happened. He opened his eyes and the whole world was blurry; Rick had snatched his glasses. He whipped around; face completely scarlet and heating up fast with both embarrassment and rage. Rick had already put his glasses on, blinking owlishly through the lenses with a triumphant grin on his face.

"Man, Pinky, you are _blind_," he commented, turning to look down at him with the stupidest winning smile.

Craig flushed harder and stepped forward to take them back, but Rick grabbed his wrist, easily pulling him completely forward without much effort. He pushed the glasses up to his forehead and placed two fingers under the flustered Craig's chin, lifting him up and tilting his face side to side.

"Not bad, y'look better with'em," he observed while Craig gaped, searching for the appropriately enraged response.

Rick flipped the glasses down with one more impressed whistle, "Blind, 'm tellin' ya," he said and pulled them off and set them atop Craig's head.

"Think I win," he said in a stage whisper with a small flick of Craig's nose.

Craig's shoulders were tense enough they were reaching his ears, but he could only gape with embarrassed rage while Rick shoved his hands in his pockets and whistled as he walked away. Craig snatched his copies out of the copy tray and pulled his glasses down to his face. The entire way back to his desk, he had the papers tucked under his arm while he furiously wiped the lenses of his glasses with a cloth from his pocket.

When he finally slammed the papers down next to his keyboard, an odd and unbidden thought bubbled up in his mind: Rick thought he looked better with glasses, but _Rick_ didn't look so bad in them himself. Craig scrubbed his eyes, replaced his glasses, and shuffled through his papers with another blush creeping up his neck. Never again would his guard be down like that; seemed like he was going mad.


End file.
